Home was where the Heart Lived

There was a time we lived up the tiny road in the big, old farm house. It was huge with great rooms, high ceilings and a front porch all the way across. As you entered the front door, you climbed about 10 cement steps to pull the screen door back and step onto the wooden floor of the porch.
In another 8-10 steps, you had entered the hallway where a choice had to be made. To the right, the huge living room area. 10' ceiling, big, open room with a couple of windows on the sidewall. Once in that room, you could turn left and enter the tiny kitchen or turn right and enter another, very large, bedroom area.
If your choice was to take a left in the hallway entry and enter the extra large bedroom there, you walked into a room facing two very large old country windows. Living on the farm, away from the world, allowed you on the hot summer nights to lie in bed beside the open window and listen to the sounds of the night.
A symphony coursed through the still night to the sounds of crickets, bullfrogs and other creature noises. It was all illuminated with the flight of lightening bugs, twinkling stars and sometimes, a beautiful, full moon. You could lay and stare out the screened window and dream the dreams of your life. Finally, with a cool night breeze wafting over your skin, you'd fall into deep slumber and colorful dreams til daybreak.
From that front bedroom, you could walk through another door into a smaller bedroom. It had one window in it, a door that led to the screened back porch and a second door leading into a last, back bedroom. That bedroom was interesting because the walls were those tiny, slat looking boards. They ran from floor to ceiling and for a little girl, it caused a great curiosity because it looked and felt different from all the others.
As you left the back bedroom and stepped onto the big porch, you were standing next to the small bathroom on your left. Not too large, yet large enough. Big bath tub, sink and potty...and, a window above the tub.
As you left the potty room, you could step out and touch a rock 'well' that sat on the back porch. I can't recall that it really worked, but you really had to leave it alone!!
Walking the back porch, you would ultimately turn to the left and head to the other kitchen entrance. Just outside the kitchen was the old screen door and few more steps to launch you into play wonderland!
I guess the worst thing I ever did as a little girl was with my bow and arrow. Yes, I had a Daisy Rifle BB gun at an early age and next came a bow and arrow. Guess my daddy thought I could handle anything! Fact is, I was always 'just lucky' with everything. I shot that arrow straight up into the sky one Sunday afternoon. A cousin was standing across the yard. As I watched the arrow soar into the blue and make it's turn for the return to dirt, I brought my eyes level across the yard and suddenly, my laughter became panic.
That arrow missed that cousin's head by maybe two big feet! WHAP! It stuck solid in the hard dirt. Suddenly, the 'jig was up'...everybody in the yard looked around and I was just about 'run outta town' for that one! Needless to say, I learned...bow and arrow not good in crowds!!
Now, the big old house saw many good times. Croquet; Red Rover, Red Rover; chase around the house; throwing the ball all the way over to the other partner and many more games. We didn't stay glued to television, we played and we played hard!
As an infant, I battled asthma (so I was told by my mother)and many times it nearly won. Story went, the asthma would come on and somehow, more often than not, go into pneumonia. There we'd go again...to the hospital and I was told I spent many days sitting in the middle of the hospital bed under the old, huge oxygen tents.
The Nuns would come by everyday to smile and scare the bejeebers out of me. They wore the 'habits' and looked alien to me. Nope, they never touched me, not even close. They could stand in the doorway and wave and then, they had to git or I busted loose in tears and screams.
With the asthma, came the tonsils. They were a worst nightmare as a little girl. In the first grade and second grade, tonsilitis came to visit too often. Finally, one of the doctors said, "Mrs. Freedman, the tonsils need to come out. We'll put her on special meds prior to the surgery so she won't bleed profusely." And, they did.
The capsule was about a foot long, as big around as a hot dog and I was expected to slam that thing down my throat each morning? Mother would hand me the pill and a small glass of orange juice. She'd turn and walk into the kitchen while I stuffed the pill down the side of the green recliner and drank the juice.
Following the surgery, my parents were yelled at big time by the doctor. I had bled like a crazy person and gave them a run for their money. Didn't seem to be anyone's fault, it was just a thing.
Huh! No one's fault until the end of the following week when mother was vacuuming the living room. Suddenly, she moved the green recliner and a couple of red pills rolled onto the floor. Danger, danger! She tipped the chair and the entire prescription rolled out.
You want to talk about trouble? It was boiling, right on the top of my blonde head! I cried really gigantic tears that morning and escaped with my life! I was a kid..what did I know about the importance of pills?
I lived, the tonsils got yanked and there ya go. I do remember laying in the hospital bed after surgery and for a time, was not allowed anything but chips of ice. I'd ask for daddy to come in and see me. I just knew if I could get him to look into my little girl blue eyes, he'd get me some ice cream RIGHT THEN!! Wrong! I couldn't even make him cheat for me!
Many life issues came and went over the years. But wrapped in all the days of life in the country are so many strong, terrific memories.
We were carefree, we ran with the wind blowing through our hair, we had acres and acres to roam and create games...we didn't fret over life's small issues. Our family was strong, parents loved us and provided for us and allowed us to grow and discover life one day at a time.
When you stop and remember 'back when' ... I hope you have a vast kaleidascope turning in your mind. It should be of many hues, shapes, sizes and values. Never struggle over the challenges, celebrate the experience and stand firm on the foundation you built.
There are no second chances at life. It's a one shot deal, make the most of it. If you want to be outstanding these days, throw in a Random Act of Kindness with every opportunity and watch the expression on one's face! Share the wealth...give someone a smile!